


We Didn't Start the Fire

by FogsRollingIn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, Family, Gen, Humor, Pre-Series, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FogsRollingIn/pseuds/FogsRollingIn
Summary: Sam & Dean discover "We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel. Takes place May, 1992 (Sam 9, Dean 13).





	We Didn't Start the Fire

Sam was in that twilight haze between sleep and awake in the backseat, eyes open only enough to watch the yellow highway streetlights shafting over the dirty floor of the Impala. The front seat was quiet but for the legos rattling in the vents, Dean's quiet snores, and the music turned down low - likely John after he noticed Dean was out for the count.

Sam sighed and shifted around so he could light up his knock-off G-shock watch, his current pride and joy. Dean had gotten it for his birthday a couple weeks ago and Sam was proud he hadn't lost it yet; it was an old lesson learned that Dean and him lost a lot of stuff with how often they moved, and any bid to go back for it would result in nothing but their father's "you-should-take-responsibility-for-your-personal-possessions" lecture. From all the journals he'd lost by now, Sam was pretty sure there were maids all over the country that knew his innermost thoughts from age seven on.

Still reclined along the backseat, Sam idly played with it, turning the green glowing digital display saying "10:30 PM" on and off with the button on the side. They'd been driving the whole day to get to Oklahoma, and Sam found himself waking up more, wondering how close they were. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with a loud sigh. His dad turned his head so Sam could only see his profile and waved his hand in acknowledgment, so Sam knelt on the transmission tunnel hump in the middle of the floor and braced his arms along the back of the front seat.

"Hey," he whispered, shifting his knees to get comfortable and checking Dean to make sure he wasn't so loud he'd wake him.

"Hey, kiddo," Dad replied evenly.

"Are we close? Are we gonna stop soon?"

"Oh," Dad huffed, "yeah, I... what time is it?"

"Ten-thirty," Sam supplied happily and began to fiddle with his watch again. "Ten thirty-five _exactly_!"

"Okay. We'll hit Tulsa soon, so we'll stop there for the night."

"Okay but... how soon is soon?"

John squinted and shrugged.

"Twenty minutes?"

Sam began to set the alarm for his watch before he abandoned the idea for a better one.

"Hey, Dad! If we're twenty minutes away, you think we can get radio stations?!" Sam asked, John shushing him to keep it down. "It's okay. Dean's zonked out," Sam reassured, reaching out and snapping his fingers in front of his brother. Dean's head was wedged between the door and seat, a balled-up sweatshirt serving as a pillow. Eyes closed and mouth wide open, Dean didn't even flinch.

Point made, Sam pulled his hand away and looked at his father expectantly. "Please?!"

"We can try for it, sure..." John yawned as he stopped the cassette's play and clicked the FM dial on. While he turned the dial to find stations, he let Sam dictate when to stay or move on. Sam vetoed a classical station, a station playing rap, and with some comedic grumbling of discontent from John, classic rock. Sam was so intent on listening, he flinched at his brother's sudden, loud voice so close to him.

"Ah, I _hate_  the sound of static, what the f-"

" _Language_ -"

"-fuhh-sss," Dean finished lamely and Sam snickered, noticing John's dimples had appeared too.

"Dean, we're close to Tulsa. We're trying to get radio stations," Sam explained, voice louder now that he didn't have to worry about waking him up. He let out a quiet giggle of Dean wincing away from him.

"Cool," Dean grumbled. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straight, blinking dully out the window. John patted Dean's shoulder before pointing at the console, an implicit "take over - I'm driving." Dean groaned and leaned forward in acquiescence, Sam a bouncing ball of energy behind him. He couldn't wait to hear a radio station that'd have music he hadn't already heard ad nauseam on their cassettes.

Unlike their father who didn't want to be touched while he drove, Dean was more tolerant, so Sam batted at Dean's hunched-over back to 'help' direct him over what stations to consider as he groggily spun the dial across the broadcast band. Static roared at a particular spot, making them both flinch and Dean moved on quickly.

"Hey," Sam patted his brother, "why do you _hate_ static?" It wasn't like anybody _liked_ static but still Dean hadn't ever mentioned it before as a unique thing he hated until now.

"I saw a movie recently. I'll show it to you some time. You'll love it," Dean offered cryptically and Sam could see him smirking.

"Dean," John warned and Dean chuckled.

"Okay. What am I not getting?" Sam announced, feeling like he was getting teased somehow.

"Nothing, squirt," Dean answered. Before Sam could push it, a melody started coming through the static.

"Oh, try to get this one, Dean, I like this song," John piped up, and Dean fiddled with the station, getting it clear.

_-was always burning since the world's been turning_

_We didn't start the fire_

_No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it_

As the lyrics began after the chorus, Sam and Dean fell silent, rapt.

"I got Davy Crockett - heard that, know who he is," Dean pointed out.

"What's 'trouble in the Suez'?" Sam asked as the chorus came back on, looking to his brother. Dean shrugged. "Dad? Trouble in the Suez?"

"Oh, ahh... I'm not sure exactly what it's referring to, but the Suez Canal's in Egypt."

"Is it... important?" Sam pressed, but the lyrics came back on and Sam quieted.

"Um..." Dean intoned, listening for anything he recognized. "Oh! Sputnik! Wasn't that a... bomb?"

"Satellite," John corrected.

"But doesn't that game Spud turn you into a ghost though?"

"It's Spu _t_ nik - one word - not related the game Spud," John chuckled.

Dean glanced at Sam and they both shrugged.

"I'm gonna get my notebook. I wanna see if we can get the lyrics," Sam proclaimed before falling backwards onto the seat and rummaging through his backpack.

"Sammy, write down 'space monkey mafia.' I wanna know what that's all about," Dean called back.

"Space monkey and mafia are different things, I think," John laughed.

"Damn, really?" Dean grinned.

"Okay, got it!" Sam pitched, clicking his pen to scribble furiously in the dark.

"I was thinking like... Planet of the Apes, Italian-style, you know?"

"Yeah," John smirked, "probably _not_ that," he dead-panned.

"Oh hey - British Beatlemania!" Sam cheered, having heard the lyric. "Didn't-" Sam stopped himself, wondering if it'd be okay. "Mom loved them, right?"

Sam scrutinized his father's expression in the dim light of the car. He was relieved to see a wistful smile.

"Crazy about them," John confirmed, and Sam glanced at Dean. He was watching his father intently, his expression more sad than Sam wanted it to be. Sam didn't say anything more and the lyrics were quick to pick the conversation back up.

"Oh, put Woodstock down, Sam," John instructed.

"And punk rock!" Dean added.

"'m not gonna put punk rock down - we already know what it is, Dean."

"We already know what it is, Dean-" he mimicked back in mockery.

"-What's Woodstock, though?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother.

"It was a concert. There was a documentary about it. I'll see if we can rent it - I think you'd both love it."

"You think I'd love a documentary? Really?"

"Trust me, Dean." John winked. Dean put his hands up.

"'Rock and roller coller wars'? Dad, what's that?"

"I didn't hear it. I don't think you got it right..." John trailed off, tapping to the chorus as it faded out.

"Maybe 'rock and roller coaster wars'?" Dean offered. Sam made a face.

"I don't think that was it."

Dean shrugged and hovered over the radio dial until he realized Free Fallin' was up next, so he let it go and leaned back just in time to see the "Welcome to Tulsa" sign pass them by.

"Okay guys, keep your eyes out for the magic word," John instructed. Sam straightened up from his notebook and looked out the window for the magic word, 'Vacancy,' usually lit up in neon.

"I wanna know all the words now, don't you, Dean?" Sam asked, looking out the window.

"Actually, yeah," Dean admitted, and Sam lit up.

"Really? You wanna try together?!"

"Totally. We gotta see how to record it onto a cassette from the radio..."

"I'll just buy the single."

"Really?" Both boys asked, surprised. John shrugged.

"Sure. I like the song. Pay attention, though - we gotta bed down somewhere and I'm just driving around right now."

Dean turned around to share a grin with his brother.

That night, before drifting off to sleep, John heard his sons colluding in whispers.

"Sam, you awake?"

"Yeah."

By the sound of Sam's voice, his youngest had in fact _not_ been awake.

"With the song. I wanna know about the punk rock thing."

"I thought you already knew all about punk rock."

"It'd just be cool to look up more, you know?" Dean hedged.

"Yeah. We could use the library while we're researching Dad's hunt. This is a big city so their library probably has some computers with Encarta there."

"You're such a dork."

"Shut up," Sam replied with a laugh, the sound of a light hit and Dean's feigned pain in response. "So..." Sam's voice lowered even further, "you think Dad's really gonna buy the song for us?"

Dean didn't say anything for a few moments longer than John would've liked.

"He said he would."

"Yeah but..." Sam trailed off.

John promised himself he'd pick up the song _and_ rent Woodstock before he took off to Muskogee an hour south for a few days. Some suspicious activity had been reported at their War Memorial Park ever since they 'updated' the crew cabins. John couldn't risk tracking anything back to them after investigating the scene.

"But anyway, I wanna look up the punk rock stuff. Like maybe there's famous places we'll go where we can catch a show, you know?"

" _Yeah_!" Sam rasped, enthralled with the idea.

John closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn't catch a hunt anytime soon near New York once his eldest read up on CBGB...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - please feel free to comment/review if you've got a minute! ~ Alex


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